


Idol Admiration

by anamuan



Series: Rarepair Fic/Smut Anonymeme [3]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), SMAP
Genre: Anal Fingering, Denial, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-15
Updated: 2008-03-15
Packaged: 2020-10-14 17:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamuan/pseuds/anamuan
Summary: Jin looks up to Kimura-sempai the most. Right. That's why he's got his pants kicked off and a hand wrapped around his erection. Admiration. Exactly.





	Idol Admiration

**Author's Note:**

> Written many years ago for the Johnny's Entertainment Rarepair Fic/Smut Anonymeme.

Jin doesn't own up to it openly, but Kimura Takuya is the sempai Jin looks up to the most. He's got this element of sexy showmanship that Jin wants to emulate. Emulate, right. That's why he's got his pants kicked off and a hand wrapped around his erection, pulling up in long, firm strokes, thinking about Kimura-sempai; he admires Kimura Takuya and wants to emulate him. He doesn't want to fuck him. No, he gasps and slides his hand a little faster, this is just your run-of-the-mill admiration for a respected sempai. Right.

He doesn't want Kimura-sempai to fuck _him_, oh no, and just the thought doesn't make him impossibly harder. Jin tries to imagine the burn of being pushed into by _Kimura Takuya_ but finds it isn't enough just like that. He sucks the first two fingers of his free hand into his mouth, fast and wet, intent on gratification rather than seduction.

He hooks a leg over the back of the couch, spreading himself out, and pushes a finger into himself. It hurts a little, not quite as slick as he'd like it; but then his imagination takes over, and the thought of Kimura-sempai leaning over him, arms braced on either side of his body, pushing in, in, in, a slow, relentless burn, and that's good enough. He pulls on his cock harder, faster, feeling the rush starting at the base, telling him he's close. Just. A. Little. Further.

He forces his way in deeper, the angle a little awkward, breathing dirty things—things he wants to be able to say, things he wishes Kimura-sempai were whispering into his ear—so close, _almost _there. And then—finally—his finger brushes against his prostate, and he rolls his hips back down onto it, then up into his hand, again and again, voice catching in his throat, lips forming Kimura Takuya's name as he rides out the wave of his orgasm.


End file.
